


Moonage Daydream

by ladyofshalott19



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Memory Loss, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofshalott19/pseuds/ladyofshalott19
Summary: A few years have passed since Sarah left the Labyrinth. While she was able to put the past behind her, the Goblin King has not. Even though time hasn't healed his wounds, Jareth will soon discover that he must push aside his grief as he faces a danger that he might not be able to escape.





	1. Chapter 1

_There's such a fooled heart  
Beating so fast in search of new dreams_

* * *

The barn owl beat its wings as it sailed through the night sky traversing the human world until it reached the Underground. Gliding through the window of the castle, the owl transformed into the Goblin King, still dressed in his feather cape, having left the girl only moments ago. A strange mixture of fury and anguish filled his being as he gazed out the window onto the Goblin City, a place where the girl was not hours ago.

"I know you are a recluse," a familial voice said behind him. "A downright shut in. But I suggest you not stare out the window, especially after tonight. Come with me, Jareth. We can have tea or some drinks with mother."

"I don't care for you to be here during a run, and I definitely don't care for you to be here after," Jareth answered without turning around. "And I have _tea_ here."

"You know I like to watch a good run through the maze," she said. "I didn't interfere. That's your only stipulation. But this one was different. It seems as though you shouldn't be alone right now."

"Why would you be concerned about that now?" he asked as he watched a few goblins stumble drunk out of a tavern. "I'm always alone, Cara."

"Don't be pitiful," she said with a huff.

"I'm not," Jareth responded evenly and without emotion. He finally turned around to face his sister. "Simply stating a fact."

Although they were siblings, Cara scarcely resembled Jareth due to the two of them having different mothers. Although she has a relationship with her own, Cara is considerably closer to Jareth's mother. Nearly half the height of her brother, her bright red hair might be the most blatant departure from him. Her facial features were less angular and more round thanks to the influence of her human mother.

Cara released a frustrated sigh. "Humans," she began. "They spend so much time in an infantile state of mind. They're not like you. It seems you expected to much from her. You were a part of Father's council by her age. It's such a shame really. Humans have such a short life, and they spend a large portion of it in a immature state of mind."

"I've heard this from you before," Jareth said, bored with this conversation. "You're not helping."

"She doesn't have the capacity to understand," Cara explained. "And take into consideration that you're not the best at explaining yourself properly."

That last comment earned his beloved older sister a proper glare.

"Well, it's true," she shrugged.

"She had potential," he said as he turned back around to look at the night sky. "That's what I saw in her, and that's all you need to know. Now, please leave."

"All right," Cara said. "But feel free to visit regardless. I would say it's time, yes? Five hundred years is a long time to not see your parents."

"Don't defame me," Jareth said as he created a crystal before allowing it to float out into the sky. "It's only been four hundred and eighty seven years."

A small smile stretched across her face before she disappeared. "Goodbye, Jareth."

He and his Labyrinth had never lost to anyone, but he quickly surmised that one defeat wasn't the reason for his emotional state of mind. He was a petty creature- that he would never dispute. Jareth had never given much thought to how it would feel to lose. However, if he was to be honest with himself- and he usually was- he would deduce that his anger came for the patent refusal of his proposal. Not of marriage. He wasn't as fickle like those of his race. The ability to see and hear people's dreams and wishes tend to make one restrained. But what he told his sister was true: he saw potential in the girl-more than he had with anyone else over the centuries. If he was to be tethered to another, he only saw it with her.

And the anguish? That source was easy for him to pinpoint. No one, not even the victor, leaves the Underground with their memories. She will never remember her time here. He was a fairy tale before tonight, and she will only know him as such from now until forever.

"I need rest," he whispered to himself before leaving the throne room for his chambers.

* * *

"So, Sarah, where are we going for our anniversary? First, one that you can legally drink alcohol. May I suggest seafood- that one place by the pier?"

Sarah looked up from her notebook to give him an incredulous stare. "I hate seafood, and you know that."

He shrugged as he looked out at the others sitting at the tables outside the student commons. "If I ask enough times, you might say yes."

"Sounds like your go-to method of wooing me," she teased.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "Worked one time already. Second time has to be a charm."

"You're so silly, Patrick," Sarah laughed. She closed her notebook and her textbook before placing them both in her black messenger bag.

Sarah was in her third year at a university in Princeton, New Jersey studying Eastern Philosophy and Languages. Her father nearly fell out when she told him, discouraged by her choice in degrees. But her step-mother was an encouraging as someone could be about a something she didn't understand. She met Patrick, who was one year ahead, her first day. A former lacrosse player who had to quit due to injury, he was one of upperclassmen in the dorms helping the freshmen check-in. Since Sarah took a lot of college classes in high school, her first semester of freshmen year consisted of many upper courses- which is where she got to know Patrick better. After one class assignment, they became friends. By her the beginning of her sophomore year, he asked her out. It wasn't until six months into their relationship that she realized that he was the son of a hedge fund manager who was planning to join his father's business after graduation.

"I can't believe it's our anniversary already. I thought it was next month," she mused.

"I swear, I can't decide if you are the best or worst girlfriend ever," he stated, running a hand through his dirty blond hair that was in need of a barber. "You know my friends would be strangled if they forgot something like this."

"I'm sorry," she said in a sincere tone. "I've been busy."

"You have a scholarship, carrying a full time school load, yet you work two jobs," Patrick said. "There's no reason for you to do all this. Also, working at a tea shop _and_ a café? I say pick a side: tea or coffee. The way God intended."

"I like to keep busy," Sarah said, ignoring his jokes as she usually did. "I thought that's why you liked me, Mr. Business Major."

"Yeah, maybe," he said as he took her hand in his. "So, clam chowder at the Boardwalk?"

"Gross," she said in disgust as she yanked her hand away. "You know I hate that stuff. I want pizza."

"I refuse to take you for pizza for our two year anniversary," he said seriously.

"There's expensive pizza out there," she said. "I think California invented that."

"Sarah," he said.

"Fine," she conceded. "Surprise me then."

"You said that last year," Patrick pointed out. "At least, pick a type of food."

"Umm… didn't a new Moroccan place open up near downtown?" she mused. "How about that?"

"Sounds like a great idea," he said with a toothy smile as he rose from his seat. Patrick lifted Sarah chin to place a kiss on her lips. "Have you decided whether you're joining my family for Christmas?"

"I haven't thought about it that much, no," she admitted. "But the idea of spending Christmas on a beach is slightly off putting. It should be cold with the possibilities of a blizzard."

"You're such a bizarre woman," Patrick said. "You have two more weeks to decide, and I promise I'll speak to my great grandmother about saying how you would be more attractive with blond hair."

Sarah laughed at the memory of accompanying him to the family retreat in Rhode Island for Fourth of July. "She's fine," Sarah said. "Grandmothers are known to speak their minds. And I'll think about it."

"All right," he said. "I'll make the reservations."

A rustling in the trees caught Sarah's attention as Patrick rose from his chair.

"How bizarre," she said, looking into the branches. "Don't they only come out at night? Maybe that species is okay with the daylight. I've seen one like that out before throughout the years."

Patrick had no idea what she was talking about until he followed where she was looking. An owl perched in the tree appearing to be staring at them, which was odd that a wild animal would give much attention to humans, especially with all the squirrels running around.

"Whatever," he groused. "Thing's probably covered in rabies."

"What?" Sarah laughed out of disbelief. "How can that be the first thing you think about when you see a beautiful creature such as that?"

"Talent?" Patrick shrugged. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, causing the owl to release a shriek. "Shit! Here that? Rabies, I tell you."

"Go away," she said rolling her eyes before returning her attention to her studies.

"Stay away from that bird," he warned, walking away.

* * *

The barn owl flew high in the sky, passing effortlessly through a veil that separates the worlds. Hovering over the Goblin Kingdom, it observed the various subject of the Kingdom going about their day. It eyed a circular window located in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City before soaring through, transforming into the Goblin King.

"I must admit that your sister has done well to keep your secrets," a calm lilting voice said behind him, actually startling him. He spun around to stare at his mother, Queen Elisabeta, dressed in an ornate cyan dressed decorated in pearls and crystals. The statuesque matriarch had her long, dark grey hair pulled back into a low ponytail that served to highlight the angular nature of her tawny face. Her periwinkle eyes were viewed as many to be haunting.

"What are you talking about?" he said as he walked to his throne, barely looking at her in the face.

"It's been how many years since I've visited this dreadful kingdom," Elisabeta complained. "And this how you welcome me?"

Jareth stopped before he reached his intended destination, walking over to her, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"My apologies, mother," he said.

"Your manners have always been lacking," she said with a small smile. "It would be easy to blame your father for such a character flaw, but it was probably both of our doings."

"Is there a reason for all this mocking of me?" he said as he sat in his throne.

Elisabeta's face transformed from thoughtful to stern. "You must cease this…this… whatever this is."

"What do you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Jareth," she sneered. "You may do senseless things, but let's not pretend that you are dim."

"Have you heard any complaints from my subjects?" Jareth countered. "Is this place crawling with vermin? From what I can tell, everything in my kingdom is doing fine. What you are speaking of is a personal matter."

"No vermin? This place is crawling with goblins and chickens," Elisabeta replied. "Why are do go to that world when you are not summoned?"

"Ah, so you came here as a fact-finding exposition," he surmised.

"I came here to visit you since your sister suggests that I do," she said. "And here I am, taking time out of my day to visit you, only to find that you are not here and went Aboveground, of all places. Cara visits you often; I'm certain she knows. She won't tell me a thing, but I know she's aware of your doings."

"And what of it?"

"Enough of this!" she demanded. Elisabeta inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. Of course, she mused to herself, her sole child was the only one who could cause her this much grief. "Why make these journeys, Jareth? What is there? _Who_ is there?"

"Make a room for me in three days," Jareth said, rapidly changing the conversation. "I'll be there for the evening meal."

Elisabeta sighed, knowing that she would not be able to draw her son out any more. "Fine. I'll tell your father; he'll be pleased- which a rare feat indeed," she gazed at her son who was staring out the window. "You are correct: these matters are personal, and they are your own. However, consider finding another pastime, something else to fixate on."

An iridescent glow encompassed her before she disappeared. Jareth covered his eyes with a gloved hand as he slumped in her throne. He created a crystal, peering into it, willing the orb to reveal what he always sought to see.

Coming into view was Sarah pouring a kettle of hot coffee into a cup, before serving it to a lady standing across from her. As much as Jareth hated the lout who was courting her, he had to agree: she was hard work, diligent in everything she undertook. How he enjoyed watching Sarah blossomed from the impulsive teenager to the young woman who stayed up until the early mornings studying; who eagerly tried to answer questions in class; who drove up to her parents residence to babysit when available.

Jareth dismissed the crystal as he rose from his throne. He stood by what he told his mother: all of this was a personal matter that he didn't need to explain to anyone. For over five years, he continued to keep watch of Sarah, occasionally using crystals to see how she was doing. Every three months or so, he would actually fly up to see her. Seeing Sarah with someone else these past two years have been difficult with every visit, yet he still returned to see her. However, Jareth decided that he could make his family happy by actually visiting them. For reasons he could not possibly comprehend, his parents had lavish meals every night, inviting every noble in the five kingdoms. Although he would never admit such a thing out loud, he has felt more morose these past years, burying his head in paper work and regrets. Maybe being around others is what he really needed, especially since there would be more than a few willingly creatures who could keep his mind occupied.

_Being a member of the court does have its privileges,_ his father always told him. Privileges he hasn't partaken in in a long time.

* * *

The ring from the phone caused Sarah nearly jump in her seat as her highlighter streaked across the page.

"Dammit," she muttered to herself. She stood up from her chair, walking over to the side table near her couch where the phone was located. "Hello?"

"SARAH!" a shrill voice yelled through the phone. Sarah pulled the receiver from her ear, fearing she would go deaf. "SARAH! HELLO SARAH!"

"Toby, there's no need to scream," she chided him. Sometimes, she laments that the now five year old knows how to use a phone.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Dad told me to call you, and he wants the phone, but I don't feel like giving it to him."

Sarah tried not to laugh at her brother's antics as she heard her father in the background demanding the phone.

"Hand over the phone. Now, Toby," he ordered.

"Fine," Toby said.

"Hey, sweetheart," her father said with a tired sigh. "How's my scholar doing?"

Sarah chuckled at the silly nickname he gave her after she was given the full scholarship. He would tell anyone and everyone how proud he was.

"I'm good; I'm good," she replied. "Is something wrong?" Sarah called home every Sunday. Since it was Thursday, she knew something was amiss.

"A client came in today and flippantly said that they were always in need someone to work as an Assistant Translator in their New York office," he said.

"You mean _the_ city?" she asked. "I'm not commuting to the city. That's an hour and half one way on a good day."

"Hear me out," he said in earnest. "Don't rush to judgment. This is in line with your degree- much better than serving coffee or selling tea. And they only need you in the office once a week."

"Once a week?" she repeated.

"And that's not the best part," he said, excitement in his voice. "Salary starts at forty five thousand dollars!"

"A year? Working one day a week?" she said not believe what she was hearing. "Wh-why? What? Is this translating for dignitaries at an embassy or something? No- that doesn't make sense."

"They have a lot of old books that they wanted translated by hand, I believe," he said. "I'll send you the information as soon as I figure out how to get into my email."

Sarah snorted. "Did you get locked out of your email again?"

"Sure did! But I'll figure it out by tonight," he said.

"Karen can help with that," she pointed out.

"As soon as she gets home," he grumbled. "I think she's stuck in another meeting. Okay, I gotta let you go. Toby thinks the walls are canvases for his crayons. "

"All right, Dad," Sarah said. "I'll let you go." The phone made a clicking sound, indicating that her father went to go wrestle her brother away from redecorating the house.

As Sarah returning to her tiny dining table to read, her mind swirled with the outlandish possibility that her father just presented to her. She knew better than to let her mind wander too much, at least until she received more information on it.

Her phone rang again. Letting out a grumble, she picked it up to check the caller ID.

_Patrick_

"You know I'm busy," Sarah said as soon as she answered the phone.

"Hello to you, too," he said. "And besides, you're always busy."

"All right," she capitulated. "Good evening to you. Also, what's so important that you couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

"Mother is not a fan of waiting, and she wants you to RSVP," Patrick said. "Right now."

"RSVP? For the Christmas party?" Sarah asked. "That's months away."

"Just say yes, Sarah," he groaned. "You know you were going to say yes anyway."

"That's not true," she countered.

"Sarah-"

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll go."

"Great," Patrick said. "Grandmother will be thrilled to see you."

"Since she's twisting my arm, she better," Sarah said.

* * *

Vernon van Voorst stalked the hallways as fast as he could with the sound of his cane announcing his impending arrival. Nearly seventy years old, he was a surprisingly spry man despite his ailing health and poor posture. Never seen in anything less than a three piece suit and his handcrafted cane, the old man was the image of societal affluence.

"Geoffrey!" Vernon yelled as he burst through the door. "You told me that you would have an update for me two days ago."

"Uh, yes, sir," the middle aged man said as he pushed his glassed further up his nose. "We are making progress. We just need to add-"

"Four years!" Vernon yelled. "You've had four years! How much more time do you need?"

"To be fair, sir," Geoffrey stated, barely holding in his contempt. "You found this book four years ago in a language not native to any humans. Cracking the code has taken time."

"Well," Vernon snapped as tapped the head of his cane against the wall. "How much more time do you need?"

"As I was trying to say earlier," Geoffrey said as he rose to his feet, holding a manila folder in his hand. "I have translator candidates coming in on a rolling basis. Here." He handed the folder to Vernon. "You can see who we're bringing in."

The old man waved away the papers. "Keep those away from me. I've done too much in my life to deal with the minute of HR." He turned too walked out of the office. "Just-Just get it done." He pointed the bottom of his cane at Geoffrey. "I'm running out of time."

* * *

"I told you that he would fail to attend," Janus hissed after the servant placed a plate of food in front of him.

"He said he would come," Elisabeta whispered as she stared at the empty chair in front of her. "He has his faults, but he always keeps his word."

"Then, he's late," Janus retorted. The king grumbled as he stroked his blond beard, his hefty and imposing presence not moderated by sitting. He scowled as his eyes strayed down the table to the other guests who were ready for the meal to commence.

"Well, he never said that he would be on time," she said as she gave a small yet tight smile to their dinner guest.

Clearing his throat, the dining hall went silent as Janus raised his wine glass, signaling the beginning of the meal. "A toast-"

Suddenly, the double doors opened to reveal his prodigal and tardy son. The atmosphere of the hall grew tense as Jareth walked to the vacant chair without a care for the disruption he caused and paying no mind to the gapping mouths of the guest who were staring at him.

"A toast," Janus continued. "To our children, may they always know the importance of time." The room erupted into laughter as the meal commenced, and Jareth sat down.

Cara, who was seated next to him, gave him a glare. "You simply had to make an entrance," she muttered.

However, Janus could barely contain his look of displeasure. "Of all the blatant, disrespectful-"

Elisabeta grabbed his hand to give him a warning squeeze. "I'm simply happy you came, my love."

Cara gave Jareth a slight nudge in his ribs. "More than half the table is staring at you. I believe most of them are single… And the others seem to not care for their mates at this point."

Jareth looked down the table to see what his sister was referring to. Several female and a few males were passing glances his way. One actually had the temerity to give him flirtatious wave. He suddenly lamented coming to this place. There were many things he hate- shallow flattery was one of them

"Do you want me to regret coming here?" he snarled as he stabbed into his food with his fork.

"I'm completely astonished that I have to say this after all these years," Elisabeta said. "Yet here I am: No taunting and no fighting."

Jareth turned to his sister and stuck his tongue out at her.

"Fool," Cara said with a laugh.

Closing his eyes and allowing the night air to roll over him, Jareth leaned against the palace wall, leaving the dining hall as soon as he could.

"I guess it was too much to ask that you stay to mingle," a familiar voice said. He opened one eye to see Cara walking toward him.

"I didn't leave to go back to my home, did I," he retorted, closing his eyes once more.

"Such high expectations that you've set for yourself," she said. A tugging feeling around his neck caused his eyes to snap open. "Don't be alarmed. I'm not going to strangle you." She have him one more tug before taking a step back. "Your cravat was slightly askew."

"Thank you," he said before clearing his throat.

"On second thought, maybe you should leave," Cara said. "I'm sure father will want to ring your throat when he sees you- considering his love of propriety… and your love of not doing that at all."

"You lambast me for not ever coming here," he said, changing the subject. "Yet I see not sight of the Twins."

"Don't worry about them," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "They visit more than you do. Last week, I believe."

Jareth scoffed. "Does not one else have things better to do than visit a childhood home?"

Cara approached him, placed her hands gently around his neck, and then pushed up to kiss him on the cheek. Her brother tilted his head to the side and gave her a curious look. One of her hands lingered on his face as her thumb caressed his cheek. She looked him in the eyes and gave him a small nod.

"I wish you happiness, brother."

"Ah, yet wishes aren't your purview, now is it?"

* * *

Sarah jogged the best she could in her small heels as she weaved through the crowds of people clogging the streets of the city of New York. She spared a glance at her watch to see that she only had three minutes to get to a place that was five minutes away.

"Excuse me!" she snapped as she brushed by a group of tourists blocking the middle of the walkway. Soon, she walked into the double doors of her destination four minutes later- and one minute late. Unfortunately for Sarah, the reception had to remind her of that fact.

"You're late," she said without looking up from her computer.

The entire scenario would have caught Sarah off guard if she didn't remember that she had submitted a profile picture to them, and her fingerprints, and a drug test.

_This place is intense_ , she thought. "So, would you like me to leave," Sarah asked after being ignored by the same receptionist for nearly a minute.

The lady placed a leather portfolio on the desk. "Take the stairs, turn left, walk to the end, and go to office two thirty eight," she stated as she continued to type, disregarding Sarah's president.

"All right," Sarah mumbled as she grabbed the offered portfolio and made her way upstairs. When she arrived at the numbered office door, she gave a gentle knock on the door.

"Enter," a muffled voice ordered. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her. "You're late," the thick-rimmed glasses complained.

"I apologize for that," Sarah said, still standing by the door.

"Well, don't just stand there," he said, pointing to a chair across from his desk. "Take a seat." He released a sigh as he shuffled through some manila folders before grabbing what he was looking for. "You're Sarah- Sarah Williams."

"Yes, sir," she answered after taking her seat.

"Robert can't shut up about you," he said. "It's finally nice to meet you. Name's Geoffrey Lyon. Excuse the frazzled state of my office. You'll be situated on the fifth floor. I'll be sure that you'll be sharing an office with one other person. I could be wrong about that."

"Um, what? This isn't an interview?" Sarah asked.

Geoffrey let out a bark of a laugh. "We have no time for that. Did you believe we asked for your fingerprints for fun? You're keys and badge should be in that portfolio you have in your hands." Sarah opened the folder to see everything he stated was laid out before here. "And your employment contract is in there also. I need you to sign that and give it to me before you can proceed any further."

"Oh, sure." She took out the packet of papers and tried to read as quickly as possible. The contract was long and extensive, mostly due to the non-disclosure agreement attached to it. "You guys are really serious about your privacy."

"Will that be a problem?" Geoffrey asked in a serious tone. Sarah looked up from her contract to see him glaring at her.

She shook her head slowly. "No. It's to be expected, I guess." After signing all the necessary pages, she handed the document to him.

"Fantastic," Geoffrey said before looking at his watch. "I know it's Saturday, early afternoon and you weren't expecting this, however, can you start today?"

"Sure," Sarah said slowly, not really understanding the urgency.

"I suggest you get you some lunch and then go report to your office," he stated.

"Great," she said, shrugging her shoulders before standing as he followed suit. He reached out a hand to her, which Sarah took.

Geoffrey gave her a smile as he gave her a firm hand shake. "Welcome to the Voorst Historical Society family."

* * *

"Hey!"

The yell caught Sarah off-guard that she nearly jumped. "Why do you do that when you know I hate it?"

"It's just a joke," Patrick said as he wrapped an arm around her torso. "And the most efficient way to get your attention. Here, I got you a drink- an old fashioned." She looked over to see a whiskey glass in his hand.

"Seriously? It's like ten in the morning," she said, turning in his arm.

"Eh," he shrugged. "We're on vacation, and we're celebrating, Ms. College Grad."

"Oh, please." Sarah grabbed the drink from his hand and took a sip. "It's just college. People graduate all the time."

"This is true," Patrick concurred as he rubbed her shoulders. "But it's not every day that someone is asked to be the next Mrs. Monroe."

The whiskey tumbler paused at her lips. "What?" She looked over to where Patrick was standing and noticed that he had taken a knee in front of her. "Are you serious?"

"Hey now," he said as he reached into his back pocket. "Let me do my thing." Patrick opened the small black box to reveal a glistening ring. "Sarah Victoria Williams, will you marry me?"

Sarah simply stared back at him as the glass in her hand began to shake. Patrick stayed kneeling, frozen by her lack of reaction.

"Um, I need an answer," he said cautiously. "C'mon, baby, don't just leave me down here. The wooden floors are rough."

"Yes," she quietly answered while nodding her head. "Yes. Yes! I'll marry you."

Smiling, Patrick rose to his feet as he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck to pull her into a kiss. When he finally released her, he took her left hand to place the ring on her finger before he kissed the back of her hand.

"I knew it would fit."

* * *

Crystal orbs were thrown against the walls and floor as an irate king took out his sorrow and frustration on anything that dared get in his way.

Goblin and chickens alike ran from the throne room, terror etched on their face as they tried to find safety. "Run!" the goblin yelled in unison.

When the throne room cleared out and every inch of the floor was covered with shards of crystal, the Goblin King's gloved hands gripping the side of his throne, breathing heavily in an attempt to calm his nerves.

"Life's not fair, is it?"

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_It's just a moment  
This time will pass_

* * *

The early light peered through the windows to illuminate the bedroom where the Goblin King slept. He groaned in disapproval at this obtrusion, unable to ignore the calling of a new day. Sitting up, he briefly looked over to his left before leaving the bed.

"Did I not tell you two to leave before morning?" he tersely asked as he swiftly put on his trousers. "Or do you have difficulty hearing?"

The wheat blonde rolled over on her side to face him as the sable haired male sat up fully. She rested her head in her hand and batted her eyes at him.

"Oh, Jareth, your sense of humor has always been a bit dry," she crooned.

"Besides," the male said as he rubbed his face. "You can't expect us to wander your castle at night. There are goblins everywhere."

Jareth tossed a billowy shirt over his head and walked toward the bedroom door. He turned around and pointed to the spot above both their heads. An elaborate thirteen hour clock appeared which they both turned around to look at.

"You have until the clock strikes thirteen to leave this dwelling before I have guards escort you out," Jareth stated.

The male merely gave Jareth an incredulous stare as his companion's mouth dropped as she clutched the blankets to her chest. "You must be joking. You're only giving us five minutes?"

"You were given all night," he proclaimed before he walked out of the room, leaving them alone in his chambers. Shuffling down the hallways of the castle, Jareth finally made his way to the castle's kitchens, willing to eat anything that was available.

"Where's the bloody tea?" he demanded as he leaned against a large wooden table.

"Here, Your Majesty," a servant said, placing the hot cop in front of his master. "I'm slightly surprised that you are here so early."

"I'm becoming bored with this conversation," Jareth quipped as he walked away. "Bring me my usually breakfast in the dining hall." The servant shook his head as he turned his attentions to fulfilling his King's wish.

When he arrived in the dining hall, he slogged his way to his seat at the table in unceremoniously flopped down in his chair, placing his cup of tea on the table.

"I knew it was a mistake to make a habit of visiting father," he sighed as he rose from his chair to look out the window. He mentally cursed himself for being so permissive to bring back two well-known languid social climbers.

_Yet what does that say about me?_ he thought as he stirred the minuscule spoon in his cup.

Without warning, a sharp pain hit Jareth in the middle of his chest, causing him to grab his shirt before doubling over in agony.

"What-" But before he could say anything more, the pain began to spread across his entire body, sending him writhing on the floor. An odd light enveloped his body as he attempted to gain control. He struggled to cry for help but couldn't; his ability to breathe was severely inhibited. He was even unable to lift his hand in order to use his magic.

All he was able to do was open his mouth while releasing an agonizing scream before his vision went black.

* * *

Vernon van Voorst's cane clicked against the cement floor as he shuffled from one end of the room to the other. He glared at the small and ancient limestone dais with words and symbols that he couldn't possibly understand.

"How long is it going to take to set up?" he asked, growling his displeasure. "Are all these candles necessary?"

Geoffrey sat at a rickety folding table as his attention turned from the large leather tome in front of him to the several pages of loose leaf paper.

"One translator said there was no need for the candles, but another one did," Geoffrey explained. "We're not taking any liberties here. Perfection is key. Did you not say that once?"

Vernon huffed out his discontent but remained quiet. He sat in a chair as he watched three other men follow the orders that Geoffrey was giving them. His withered, cold hands held tight to his cane, trying his best to not get in anyone's way. He had been waiting nearly half his life for this moment. This moment was too important, too crucial, to allow his impatience to muck up the final steps of this journey.

Geoffrey squinted at the pages in his notebook. "Shit," he spat as he walked up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Vernon yelled.

"To figure something out," he said as he walked out the door. "Obviously."

A quick elevator ride to the fourth floor and few steps led Geoffrey to his desired location.

"Sarah!" he barked, slamming the door open. She jumped in her chair before she swiveled around to face the rude intruder.

"Yes?" she responded. Geoffrey walked over to her desk and dropped the notebook in front of her.

"Explain this," Geoffrey demanded, pointing to a particular paragraph.

Sarah leaned over to look at the passage he was referring to. "Um, I didn't translate this section."

"That is none of my concern," he said quickly with impatience underlying his tone. "This is too generic, is it not?"

"Is this time sensitive?"

"Very," he shot back.

"Well, I need the original," she muttered. As soon as she uttered those words, Geoffrey was gone but soon reappeared with one of the old tatter tomes that she had become accustomed to. With the help of a post-it note, he soon found the corresponding passage and handed it to her.

"Umm…" Sarah mumbled as she looked back and forth, comparing the two.

"Come on," Geoffrey said, trying to hurry his employee. "Time sensitive, remember?"

"All right. All right," she said. "Uh, it's not just too broad; it's the wrong word."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone translated this as 'to lighten'. That's a bit incorrect," she explained, grabbing a pen to make corrections.

"So, we don't need to light up the entire room?" Geoffrey asked. "In theory- the room that is described in the passage is not lit up entirely?"

Sarah looked up to give him a fleeting peculiar glance. "No, you need actual light, a candle, several candles- in a circle to be precise."

"How is that different than lighting up the entire room?" he asked. She turned the book around to face him, pretending as though he could actually read what she was pointing to.

"Later in the paragraph it refers to a circle of light," Sarah explained. "The object to be captured needs to be encircled with light, and I doubt whoever wrote this thousands of years ago knew about florescent lighting."

"Thanks," Geoffrey said as he snatched the books away and left her office.

"Why won't people shut the door when they leave?" Sarah grumbled as she turned off her computer, deciding to retire for the day.

* * *

Vernon used the help of his cane to rise to his feet when he heard the door open. "It's about time," he croaked out.

"I'm going to sleep so well when this is over," Geoffrey mumbled, briefly dreaming of the day when all this would be over. "Hey, you two!" He pointed to two workers resting against the wall in the far corner. They stood up straight, awaiting instructions. "Get the candles around the room and place them around the circle, bordering the dais."

"Is that necessary?" Vernon asked.

"Of course, it is!" Geoffrey shouted, letting his exhaustion get the better of him. "Everything we're doing is necessary."

"Fine. Fine," he muttered, defeated.

Nearly a half hour later and several slow, mind-numbing rotations around the room, Geoffrey reached into pocket to pull out a small velvet bag.

"You never told me how you acquired those," Vernon said as he watched Geoffrey meticulously place the small gemstones around the circle, in between the lit candles. "I wrote all those checks, paid all those people to travel all over the world."

"I'd rather not think too much about how we obtained these," he muttered as he rose to his full height. Vernon merely shrugged in response. Geoffrey grabbed a small podium and pushed it to where he was most comfortable, placing his notebook on the stand. "Let's get started. We'll finally see if this works."

"Finally," Vernon huffed out.

* * *

Pain.

All Jareth could feel was pain.

A pain he never felt before in his life. The silent screams turned into audible cries of agony. He couldn't see anything yet was able to understand a few words.

"What did you do?"

"…dying?"

"Can't die."

Jareth grabbed his side as he struggled to sit up as his body slowly shook away the paralyzed sensations. He blinked slowly as the darkness faded from his vision, allowing him to see. However, his sight was still blurred.

"Gah!" he yelled as he found even the act of pulling himself up from the ground painful. As his vision gradually cleared, he looked from side to side to see where he was.

"If you injured him," a voice yelled, his hearing finally returning to him. "I'll have your throat."

_Candles_ , Jareth thought as he considered his surroundings. _Gemstones_.

He looked down at his gloved hand, quickly noticing what was underneath him, shocked to see an artifact that he assumed was previously lost to time. He soon pieced everything together as his shock turned to rage. He turned his attention to the two humans gawking at him.

"Can it hear us?" the older man asked.

"It should," the other one answered. He held something in his hand and carefully considered it. "I wonder what this does."

"Give it back," Jareth calmly demanded- his voice low and graveled. He rested his arm on his knee, unable to stand due to the feelings of exhaustion- something he never really experience before.

"You!" Vernon yelled.

"Me," Jareth responded, bored with the outburst from the human. "Now, give me back my things and release me."

"No!" he shot back as he approached the small dais as quickly as his legs allowed. "Not until you give me what I want- what I worked so hard to get." Jareth tilted his head to the side, confused by his words but said nothing. "Immortality. Give it to me, and I'll gladly let you go."

A large grin spread across Jareth's mouth as he let out a low chuckle. "Excuse me?" he remarked.

"You're the God of Time," Vernon accused.

"God?" Jareth repeated in amusement.

"You are able to control all," he stated. "For your life, grant me immortality."

Jareth ignored the demand as he glared at the other, slightly younger man who had possession of his necklace. "I'll be getting that back- one day."

"One day?" Vernon sputtered. "Today! Give it to me today, and you can have your damn jewelry back!"

Inhaling deeply, Jareth moved to lie down on his back, staring at the shadows created by the candles. He really was not used to feeling so fatigued.

"Why the hell isn't it listening, Geoffrey?" Vernon asked.

"No one ever said you could control the being once it's here," Geoffrey answered. "Only that you could capture it."

Vernon turned and walked toward the stairs. "Whatever it takes. Do no- I repeat- do not allow him to be released until he gives me what I want." Jareth continued to lounge, appearing unaffected by the words he just heard.

"But what if he doesn't give up," Geoffrey asked.

Vernon got to the top of the stairs and opened the door. "What part of 'do not release' is hard to understand?"

* * *

Cara paced back and forth as the rest of her family sat quietly in their father's office.

"This can't be happening," she said, distraught. "Why are you still allowing this to happen?"

"It is happening," Janus said, casually. "And unlike your dear brother, we don't meddle."

"But you can!" Cara interjected.

"We don't even know where he is," Elisabeta calmly stated. "Now, please, sit down." Cara took a seat next to Elisabeta.

"Father _can_ find out, can't you?" she said in an accusatory manner. "And I bet you already know. Don't you?"

"Hold on. Where are the twins?" Mabon asked. The young looking male with long grey hair sat in a chair next to the couch, lounging as though there was no care in the world. "Why do they get to skip out on family fun night?"

"You're not helping," Cara spat.

"Neither are you," Mabon retorted. He leaned forward to study her face. "Remember. You are half-human. Be a shame if all this worrying caused wrinkles."

"Shut up," Cara seethed. "You are also half-human? Or have you forgotten?"

"Do you see me rampaging out of control?" he asked. "I have nothing to worry about."

"Cara," Janus voiced boomed, ceasing the squabbling. "Until he returns, you will be in charge of the Goblin Kingdom. Keep those little hellions with their border."

"But-but," Cara stuttered, looking to Elisabeta and then over to her father. All the while, Mabon cackled at the dumb-struck look on her face.

"Cease your juvenile ways," Janus said as he glared at his son.

"I have no way to fulfill all of his duties," she stated. "I can't do Dreams. I can't do Wishes."

"You must have misunderstood me," Janus said. "You are in command of the kingdom. That is all. End of responsibilities."

"What? Without Jareth or someone to take his place," Cara posited as she looked at her hands in her lap. "Who is going to take the unwanted children? Who will allow the gift of wishing to humanity?" With a horrified look, she glared at her father in disbelief. "Humans won't be able to dream."

"Humans brought this upon themselves," Janus sneered as he rose from his chair. "They can live with the consequences."

* * *

Sarah walked absentmindedly through the busy streets on her way to work. She hasn't been there for nearly five weeks, ever since Geoffrey rudely rushed into her office at the end of the day. A companywide email was sent to telling all employees to not come to the main office. Every day, she- along with others-received similar messages to not come in. As the days turned into weeks, Sarah assumed they were shutting down the office for good- it was an old building after all, and van Voorst wasn't spry himself. However, no communications were sent out for the week. So, like every Saturday, she made her way to the old brownstone.

"Excuse me," a booming and gruff voice said. Sarah quickly stopped in her tracks, unaware that she nearly ran into two large men. She pulled her headphones out of her ears as she took a step back from them.

"Um," she hummed as she checked the building to see if she made a wrong turn. Seeing that she was at the right location, she gave an apprehensive look to the two guards.

"I'm gonna need to see some ID," the man with the flat top said.

"What… What's happening?" Sarah asked apprehensively, deciding to not give him her identification.

"Vernon van Voorst wants only employees that he approved of entering the building," the blond man stated. "So, we need your ID and employee badge if you work here."

"But why?" she asked, finally searching through her bag.

"That's above our pay grade, ma'am," flat top man said.

" _Ma'am_ ," Sarah whispered to herself. She grabbed her driver's license and employee badge and handed them to flat top. "Here."

After searching and finding her name on the list attached to the clipboard, the two moved to the side, allowing her entry into the building. When Sarah walked through the front door, something seemed amiss. The place was always a little quiet, but now the quiet felt unnerving. The receptionist ignored her, as usual, as she made her way to the elevator. Before she arrived at the elevator, she noticed another guard standing outside the door she believed led to the basement. She never went down there; she never had a reason to. When Sarah finally made it to her office, the silence was broken by her office mate- the always talkative Nadine. Her real name was Natalie, but she went by Nadine for reasons Sarah never truly cared to discover. Sarah found out the hard way that one innocent question about Nadine soon led to a detailed story that lasted at least five hours, a lunch break, and a walk to the subway station.

"What the fuck is happening here?" Nadine exclaimed as soon as Sarah walked through the door.

Sarah rolled her eyes as she shut the door. "At least, let me give us some privacy before you yell. Everyone can here you."

"Okay. Fine, but as if there are other people out there. So… what they fuck is happening?" she hissed.

"I don't know," Sarah said calmly, putting up her sweater and purse. "I literally just got here. How long have you been here?"

"I got here about an hour ago, and it has been creepy as hell here," Nadine said. "It's super weird here."

"True," she said, sitting in her desk chair. "But it's always quiet here."

"Yeah, but… but." Nadine looked around the room quickly as though searching for a hidden camera. "I think some people have been fired. There are fewer people here."

"Well, maybe they got a different email," Sarah shrugged. "Maybe they were told not to show up until next week or something."

"No. They're not _here_ ," she said, urgently. "They're offices are empty."

"Why do you know this?" Sarah questioned, a little suspicious.

"I went to the offices on the third and fourth floors," Nadine answered. "All personal items have been cleaned."

"Why are you so nosey?" Sarah asked.

"Why are you not?" Nadine countered. A quick rap on the door ceased their conversation.

"Uh, come in," Sarah called out.

Vernon slowly walked into the office with Geoffrey trailing behind him.

"Mr. van Voorst!" Nadine exclaimed. Sarah said nothing, but her bulging eyes and overall tense demeanor gave away to how disturbed she was by the appearance of the founder of the historical society in their office. He never talked to anyone buy Geoffrey, leaving the talking to underlings to his right hand man.

"My two favorite linguists," Vernon said with an odd smile, since he was not known to give anyone a smirk.

"Who? Us?" Nadine asked, prompting Sarah to gently nudge her arm.

"As you can see, this place is a comparatively empty to what you are accustomed to; we've trimmed some fat so to speak," he stated, leaning against his cane. "Those hangers-on… but you two, and the other three on the second floor, you've proven yourself. Geoffrey here," he patted the man on the back. "He will give you your new assignments." And with that, the old man left the office.

"That was weird," Sarah mumbled.

"Pay him no mind," Geoffrey said, dismissively. He handed both women a manila folder. "Instructions and so forth. You know how this goes."

"Um, yeah about that," Nadine interrupted as Geoffrey attempted to make a quick exit. "Are our jobs in danger? Vernon just admitted that he fired like three dozen people."

"Those people were redundant," he explained. "All they did was Latin, Ancient Greek, and Arabic translations. You two have made yourself valuable with your knowledge of Old Persian, Sanskrit, Aramaic, and Aka-Ak-"

"Akkadian, sir," Sarah said.

"Ha! Well as long as you know what you're doing," he chuckled as he turned toward the door. "No need to worry, you two. If things continue the way they are, you will be here for a long time if you wish." With that, he left the pair alone in the office.

"Well, that's a relief," Nadine said as she turned to face Sarah. "Nice to know we made ourselves _useful_."

"You should call your mother and tell her that learning Old Persian wasn't a waste of time," Sarah teased. "All those Latin and Middle High German lightweights are gone, yet you're still here."

"Ah, man," Nadine moaned as her shoulders slumped. "I never got the phone number for that guy that worked on the third floor. Now, he's gone."

"Are you serious?" Sarah asked. "You said that you've been following him around for nearly seven months. Shit or get off the pot."

"Hey, pot meet kettle," Nadine sneered as she crinkled her nose. "Have you set a date or are you just going to pretend that you are not wearing that shiny rock on your left finger?"

Sarah pulled a face as she reached into her purse, finding an envelope and a bagel, and tossed the envelope at her office mate.

"Ooh, is this for me?" she teased as she opened the envelope. "Oh, an actual invitation. No save the date?"

"Check the date," Sarah said before biting into the bagel.

"Holy shit," Nadine exclaimed with a laugh. "Are you actually going to have a dress to wear in four months or do you plan to find a prom dress off the rack?"

"That's the great thing about this job," Sarah said between chews. "Working only weekends is actually a plus when planning a wedding."

"Be honest- you're not actually planning this are you?" she asked.

"Nope," Sarah said with sureness. "Patrick's mom basically took over planning as soon as he called her with the news. If Karen is lucky, she gets a call on whether someone in the family is allergic to shellfish.""

"But haven't you always dreamed of what your wedding would look like?" Nadine asked with concern in her voice.

Sarah sat still for a moment to consider her words. "Not really. Is that weird?"

"According to all those wedding mags, it is," she shrugged. "But marriage freaks me out. So, I'm not much of a standard on whether that is normal."

Let's just hope that I can make it through the day without being bombarded by phone calls," Sarah grumbled. "Because I really don't care what type of fine china is used at the reception."

"Fair warning," Nadine said. "I will be attempting to steal some table wear at the wedding. I just know Patrick's family is so fancy that they won't even notice things like that missing. "

"What?" Sarah asked while laughing.

"Don't ask so many questions," she said, waiving off any concerns. "Otherwise, you'll be implicated."

* * *

"What took you so long?" Vernon snapped when Geoffrey walked through the door and came down the stairs. "How long does it take to drop off an assignment?"

"They were concerned. I can't blame them," Geoffrey said as he stood by the old man. "You fired nearly everyone in here. Has he said anything?"

"No. For these past two weeks, it's been lounging there like it is on holiday- just staring at the ceiling," he said.

Geoffrey moved to walk around the magical barrier. "I'm pretty sure _it_ is a he."

"Does that matter?"

"Might help to get what you want," he shrugged. "Hopefully, the girls upstairs will have something soon. Utilizing a more powerful magical spell might help. A little pain might help his procrastination along. Seems as though the current spell is still containing him, holding strong."

"What do you want, hm?" Vernon said as he walked toward the barrier to glare at the obstinate creature before him. "I'm a man of my word. Just give me what I want, and I'll release you."

Jareth continued to stare at the ceiling even after having to listen the old man berate him. Thankfully soon, the man left with his lackey. Too bad he still wasn't alone. The room was always occupied by at least two human males that seemed worthy for their size than their intellect. Jareth had to listen to the man who called himself Geoffrey list simple instructions to these humans for nearly half an hour. He had no idea how long the spell would hold him, and from what he was able to overhear, he was going to be held here for long while. And did he hear something about more pain?

_Damn,_ he thought. He has yet to recover from the pain and exhaustion that wrecked his body when he first came here, over a month ago if his counting was correct.

Jareth slowly sat up, catching the attention of the guards. He studied the inscription on the sandstone that was to be his jail for the foreseeable future. He barely recognized the language. Human language was varied and diverse throughout the millennia. He never bothered with maintaining any knowledge of a language that humans deemed extinct. What he knew for certain was that the old man who bothered him daily went to great lengths and trouble to get this immortality that he craved, and Jareth surmised that he won't be freed even if he gave the old man what he wanted- even if he could give him what he wanted. Jareth knows better than most that once a human gains power, they tend to only want more power. And he'd be damned if he was going to turn into someone's genie.

The magical barrier caused him difficulty in being able to see clearly outside his confined space. His eyes squinted, struggling to see the lit candles and gemstones placed around the dais. Jareth let out a small sigh as he almost dropped to his lounging position, finding it difficult to hold himself up. He knew that he was able to muster enough patience to wait this experience to its conclusion. Keeping him bound to this place required an exact routine and mind- numbing attention to details. Humans were never perfect, after all. They always had a way of mishandling important events.

_Wait_ , he told himself as he exhaled slowly. _Just wait._

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day_   
_You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way_

* * *

_Thirteen years later…_

"Ah!" Sarah jumped, startled by the ringing phone. She grabbed her cellphone, checked the caller ID, and answered. "Hello?"

"Oh good, I caught you," the voice shouted in her ear.

"My goodness, Luciana, there's no reason to be that loud in the morning," Sarah grumbled.

"It's nearly two in the afternoon," Luciana countered. "I assume you didn't make it to the store today."

"You're so nosy," Sarah complained as she made her way into her kitchen as the tea kettle screeched. "Do you have good news or not?"

"Weeellll," Luciana started in a high pitched voice.

"For fuck sake, what now?" Sarah yelled, slamming the tea kettle on the stove burner.

"Now hold on," she said, trying to assuage the situation. "Calm down. Don't break anything."

Sarah took a deep breath. "I'm not going to break things. I'm calm. Just- what happened?" She grabbed a tea tin out of the cabinet and quickly placed the loose leaves into a mesh tea ball.

"As you know, the deadline was three days ago," Luciana stated. "And we still haven't received anything from Patrick…"

"But-"

"Wait! I'm not finished," she said, cutting Sarah off. "I called his attorney, and that dick keeps giving me the run around. So, what we're going to do is file documents today asking for default judgment on the divorce. I'm sorry, Sarah. I really am, but this will be over soon."

"It was supposed to be over and done with four years ago," Sarah moaned as she slumped against the counters.

Now, it was Luciana's turn to sigh. "I know. I know," she said. "This has been a long road for you, but it will be over in forty-five days, sixty tops."

"I feel like I've heard you say that before," Sarah said, rolling her eyes.

"I won't deny that. But honestly, everything has been settled: property, accounts, businesses, and the boat-"

"I didn't even want that stupid dinghy," Sarah interjected. "I never wanted a boat. It was all him."

"Exactly, Patrick- he's just being horrible and smarmy, holding on as long as he can," her attorney reassured her. "Don't spend any more time worrying about this. Go spend some time at that shop of yours."

"I planned to go to the historical society later," she said. "Reading dead languages should keep me busy."

"You still waste your time there?" Luciana asked.

Sarah let out a little chuckle. "Rarely. They occasionally need my help- so why not? Also, Quinn told me if I check in on her one more time, she'll quit. I can't have that. She's the best manager I've ever had."

"Well, all right," she said. "I'll send you a copy of the document after it's been filed tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks, Luciana," Sarah murmured before hanging up the phone. She left her phone on the kitchen counter before grabbing her cup of tea and began wandering through her way to silent home, mulling over the conversation she just had.

Against her better judgment, Sarah quickly finished her still hot tea, grimacing in pain from the hot liquid. She nearly tossed the cup in the sink before grabbing her wristlet and keys, and left her house.

* * *

"You do realize that yelling over the phone doesn't accomplish anything," Geoffrey said as held the receiver away from his ear. "The doctors have told you for years that you need to mind your temper."

"Fuck off, Geoffrey," Vernon spat.

"I already told you that I would call you if something happened," he said.

"I'm on my way down there now," Vernon said. "I'll be there in about five hours."

"Christ, Vernon," Geoffrey exhaled. "You're supposed to be taking it easy in- in- wherever you are."

"Connecticut," he answered. "I've been patient for six years. Six years, I've stayed away from there. I'm on my way now. There's nothing you can say to dissuade me. Didn't you say that you found a way to kill it?"

"Yeah, but like other artifacts we had translated before," Geoffrey prefaced. "This may be a bust as well."

"I'll be there after sun down," Vernon said. "Get the preparations in order."

* * *

Sarah signed her name at the clipboard on the receptionist's desk, just one more security detail that had been added over the years. Not that the Society needed it. Most of the employees worked out of a different building in downtown Manhattan, and a majority of the translators were on an on-call basis.

"Geoffrey in today?" Sarah asked, returning the sign in sheet to the receptionist.

"Last I saw him, he was heading toward the basement," he responded with a shrug. "But that was a few hours ago."

Sarah gave the man a quick smile before heading to her office. When she finally arrived, she was actually relieved to see a stack of manila folders and several post-it notes scribbled with directions from Geoffrey. If there was something that she could use right now, it was a mental distraction.

As soon as she sat down, her office phone rang. "Hello?" she answered into the phone.

"Sarah," the familiar voice pleaded.

"Patrick?" she responded through clenched teeth.

He let out a frustrated groan. "Listen-"

"I have nothing to say to you except that you need to get off your self-indulgent ass and sign those papers," Sarah spat before hanging up the phone.

* * *

Jareth sat cross legged- as he usually did- studying the humans- as he usually did. Even though he always found it difficult to sit up, he always made a point of doing so whenever the loathsome human visited him. He made a point to study their faces, to memorize who they were- every time he saw them.

The man who called himself Geoffrey departed a few minutes ago, giving the humans left behind instructions to follow for the rest of the evening. Instead of doing as they were told, the two men pulled out a small table and began to play a card game. Jareth stretched out his legs and moved to lie down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two candles, their lights dimming as their wicks ran low. As Jareth closed his eyes, a small smile etched his lips.

_Humans always make mistakes_

* * *

Releasing a sigh, Sarah stood up from her chair to stretch her muscles. She gazed out her window to see that the previously reported low chance of rain turned into a near deluge as lightning flashed across the sky. She finished everything that was asked for her but had a few lingering questions. So Sarah carefully grabbed the timeworn book, her notes, and her wristlet before locking her office door and setting out to find Geoffrey. When Sarah exited the elevator, she noticed that the receptionist had left for the day- probably had noticed of the storm, unlike her. Geoffrey wasn't in his office, and the last thing she was told was that he was in the basement.

Gently resting her head on the receptionist's desk, she let out a frustrated groan before standing up straight and readjusting the book against her body. Sarah gazed up at the clock on the wall. Since she was planning to leave after meeting with Geoffrey, she snatched the clipboard and signed out. The sound of a loud crack filled the air as thunder seemed to shake the building.

"Why is he in that dumb basement anyway?" she muttered as she walked toward the basement door. "I'm outta here whether he's there or not."

She never been down there, let alone gone near that area; she had no reason to be. However, the sky looked as though a flood was occurring, and she had been there long enough. Sarah just wanted to go home.

"Why is no one where they are supposed to be?" she complained as she opened the heavy basement door. When she opened the door, she reached out to find a light switch. Finding it, she flipped it on and off, but no lights came on. While she was in the dark at the top of the stairs, she noted as she began warily walking down the step that the basement was being illuminated by candles.

* * *

Jareth heard the door open and briefly wondered why those inane humans came back so soon. He kept his eyes closed, not interested in any of their pointless words.

"What the fuck is this?" a woman's voice exclaimed. His eyes snapped opened. Not just any woman.

_That voice._

He could never forget.

He gradually turned his head to the side to see _her_ standing in front of the dais.

"Sarah."

* * *

"You're not supposed to be here," one of the way-to-large men said as the duo shot to their feet, their card game postponed.

Sarah quickly backed away further into the room when they took steps towards here.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked, trying not to sound frazzled. She struggled to keep her eyes on the men while assessing the oddity that was occurring in the basement.

"Listen," the taller man said, trying to be calm. "You need to come with us. We'll escort you to a cab."

"Don't touch me!" she hissed. "Did you hear me? Don't. Touch. Me. I have this book. Okay?" She briefly held out the book to them. "I'll destroy it if you come near me. It's old as hell, and that's not hard to do."

The two men raised their hands in surrender, not wanting her to make any rash decisions. These men may be the hired muscle, but Sarah soon reasoned that they have been told about how important these ancient texts were. Realizing that they weren't going to charge at her, she took another step back toward the opposite end of dais. She held her hand up and jumped when she felt the invisible magical barrier.

"Oh my god," Sarah whispered. She looked down to see the creature inside attempt to sit up. Long blond hair shielded the face from her eyes. But she noticed that the being wore what seemed to be a white lengthy shirt and grey trousers. "Is this… this… person real?"

"It's not human," the tall man said, trying to reassure her. The other man touched his hand to his ear and started mumbling something under his breath as he walked toward the basement steps. "Just… let me escort you back upstairs."

Sarah continued to study the individual trapped in the barrier, seeing that the creature still struggled to sit up fully. As she methodically moved around the barrier, she turned her attention to the items bordering the dais.

Gemstones. Candles. A large inscription circled them all.

She understood the inscription on the floor. She helped translate it.

_Years ago_ , she thought as dread rose within her.

Is this what she was doing all these years? Finding ways to imprison some other worldly being?

Like all her other fellow translators throughout the years, she thought nothing of being asked to translate ancient text. She specialized in what were considered dead languages after all. Of course, many of them joked about how silly it was for an old man to put an incredible amount of resources into documents that dealt with the supernatural, but that wasn't the weirdest endeavor an heir to a fortune could do with his money.

"Let me escort you upstairs, all right?" someone said, breaking her out of her mental ramblings. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see one of the men standing in front of her.

"I said, don't touch me," Sarah demanded as she jerked away from him. She tripped over a candle, nearly knocking it over, as well as smearing the charcoal inscription on the floor with her foot.

"Ma'am, you just need to calm down," the man said.

Sarah spun around to look at all the oddities in the room, before glaring at the man.

"Calm. Down? Have you not been paying attention to what is happening here? Calm down? That's the dumbest thing I've heard today, and I've talked to my lawyer." The man saw his cohort motion for him over to the other side of the room, leaving Sarah to herself.

_Well, this can't be good_ , she thought to herself. Sarah clutched the book against her chest as she briefly considered the ramifications of what she had done. No doubt, they were calling for Geoffrey- and possibly Vernon- to get down to the Society as soon as possible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the creature was finding it easier to sit up- possible trying to stand. Looking down, she saw that she muddled the writing on ground and two candles were out of place. Trying not to draw any more attention to her, Sarah slowly shuffled to the dais and quickly rubbed out more of the charcoal inscription while pushing candles and gemstones out of their designated spots. This must have helped because the creature twisted its torso towards her direction and stare at her.

"Ahhh!" she cried out, tripping over her feet while she backed away from the dais and nearly tumbling to the ground. That's the quickest she's seen him move.

_Him,_ she thought. _Definitely a him- I think._ He slowly, yet steadily, rose to his feet as his eyes locked on to hers.

"Whoa," one of the men said from the other side of the room.

He reached out a hand to touch the barrier. "Sarah," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her eyes widened as her body filled with terror. She gawked at him as her breathing suddenly became erratic. Her hand reached up and clutched her chest.

"What?" she breathed.

Without warning, the basement door slammed open with Geoffrey running down the stairs and Vernon close behind. The creature spun around to walk to the edge of the barrier, scowling at the new arrivals.

"Sarah!" Geoffrey yelled when he reached the basement floor.

"What makes you believe that you had the right to come down?" Vernon spat.

Although she felt the need to run, she stayed standing where she was- mostly because she had nowhere to run to. Her escape route was blocked.

"What makes you think that you can do this?" Sarah countered as she discretely returned to attempting to break the barrier. She momentarily considered the fact that whoever was trapped inside would kill them all if he got out. But she couldn't just let him be trapped down here, not anymore. Not when she helped put him in this horrid state "How long as he been here?"

"That is none of your concern," Vernon dismissed with a curt wave of his hand.

"Holy shit," Geoffrey said, taking notice of the creature for the first time since he arrived. "He finally stood up, after all these years."

"Years?" Sarah cried out as her knees started to wobble. She felt lightheaded- overwhelmed with the information she received.

Vernon pointed a finger at the two men in the corner. "If you were doing your jobs correctly, this wouldn't have happened." Before the two could offer a sort of apologies, the old man interrupted. "Take her out of here, call the police, and tell them she is a disgruntled ex-employee that was trespassing."

"Are you serious?" Sarah seethed. "After all these years, you're going to treat me that way?"

The two men rushed toward her, but she quickly sidestepped them. Doing the first idea that came to her mind, she threw the book at the foot of dais, smearing even more charcoal and knocking over several candles as she tried to evade capture.

"What have you done?" Geoffrey squealed in dismay, looking at the mess before him.

Both men grabbed her arms and began to forcibly drag her toward the stairs, even though she wasn't trying to escape them anymore. Geoffrey stormed over to Sarah and reached out a hand toward her. He felt his hand cease to function, frozen in the air. Unexpectedly to all the humans, Geoffrey was thrown across the room, crashing into the card game table. Everyone turned their heads to see the creature take a step outside of the dais, placing both feet on the concrete ground.

* * *

Jareth rolled his shoulders, relishing his new found freedom. He looked over to see the two men holding onto Sarah.

"Let her go," he said in a calm yet terse tone. Both men dropped their hold on her immediately and tried to run for the door. Jareth extended his arm toward the duo and magically dragged them to where he was standing. "Foolish men doing foolish things," he chanted while placing his finger on their foreheads, causing them to faint. Vernon attempted to hobble up the stairs but soon found his ability to walk restricted. Jareth glared at the man's back as he slowly walked towards him. "You should leave, Sarah." He spared her a quick glance. "There's no need for you here."

Still finding it difficult to breath normally, Sarah couldn't quite find the ability to move one foot in front of the other. She blinked several times, ensuring herself that her eyes were not deceiving her.

Magic. She's witnessing magic. And, most importantly, she gets to leave.

"Don't you dare leave me here alone," Vernon sputtered, still frozen in his spot.

Sarah shook her head to gather her bearings. She ran over to where she dropped the book and knelt down to take it with her. Noting that somehow Geoffrey had escaped, leaving them all down there, she slowly shuffled her feet toward the stairs. Sarah placed her hand on the railings as she looked up toward the door- which seemed much further away than it should be.

Standing side by side with the previously captured magical being, she didn't know what to say or if she should say anything. Sarah couldn't even bring herself to look over at him. She spared Vernon a fleeting glance before rushing up the stairs. Her running ceased as soon as she left the building. The rain was still pouring, and the building's awning was providing minimal protection. She ran for several blocks unsure of where she was going. Sarah stopped inside a pharmacy to escape the rain. She quickly pulled out her phone and dialed the emergency phone number.

"Hello," she said, deciding not to wait for the emergency responder to answer. "There's something… strange occurring at the Voorst Historical Society. You need to send someone there right away." Then, she hung up the phone. She didn't know if she was helping or hurting the situation she left behind. She didn't even know what would be considered an act of support or hindrance. But when she left, two men were passed out on the floor, and the old man was frozen in position. Someone needed to find what had occurred there. Sarah walked back outside to hail a cab, not willing or able to deal with the rain anymore.

* * *

With a turn of his wrist, Jareth spun Vernon around to face him before dragging him down the stairs to kneel on the floor.

"Thirteen years," Jareth hissed. "Thirteen years. You've kept me imprisoned."

"I only asked for one thing," Vernon responded, defiantly, holding his chin in the air.

"You ignorant, shallow human," he said, crouching down to look at the old man in his eyes. "You demanded time, demanded immortality. Do you believe that such enchantments would work on someone who could grant such a _gift_ to you?"

"Please," Vernon groveled. "My time is running short. If you can't help me, then you know someone who can?" Jareth rose to his feet as a small smirk formed on his lips. He stretched out one hand and pressed two fingers to Vernon's forehead.

"I'll give you what you deserve," Jareth said as he watched the old man fall on the floor. "Nothing more."

* * *

Sarah struggled to open the door to her home, even though the key was in the lock. "Dammit," she cursed. The storm seemed to get worse, her portico unable to block out of the elements. "Ugh!" With a complete turn of the key and a push of the door, she finally made it inside her home. The unoccupied, silent home allowed the weight of the day's event to hit her. She leaned her back against the double doors as she slowly slid down to the floor.

"What just happened?" she whispered to herself. "Was that actually real?" Tracing the etching of the book that she essentially stole, Sarah replayed the events over and over in her head. Her hands began to shake as she dropped the book on the wooden floor. She wrapped her arms around her torso, not caring about her drenched state, as she struggled to make sense of the day's events. "I think I need a drink."

The ringing house phone sent a jolt of paranoia through her. Making her way through her home, she reached the lounge, placing the book and her wristlet on the bar top before picking up the phone without checking who was calling.

"Yes?" she answered as she held out the phone to see the name.

"Sarah! Are you watching the news?"

"Um, hi, Nadine. Uh-no," she answered slowly. "Why are you calling me about the news?"

"Because things have gone absolutely nuts at the Society," Nadine said, barely containing her impatience. "Turn on the news." Sarah frantically searched for the remote for the TV. She never could remember where it was. "I told you those people are insane. I told you to leave. You know that's why I left."

Nadine quit seven years ago, tutoring some posh kids Latin in the city whose parents believed the dead language would look good on a college application. The two former co-workers occasionally kept in touch throughout the years, and Nadine would always end the conversation with the same two statements: quit the Society and leave your husband.

"Have you found the remote," Nadine teased.

"I never watched TV in here," Sarah grumbled as she walked over to the console to turn it on. When she reached her desired channel, she almost dropped the phone in shock. Several police cruisers were bordering the sidewalk in front the brownstone where the Society was located. The headline at the bottom of the screen announced that three people were found unconscious in the historical Society basement.

"Oh shit," Sarah huffed out.

"Insanity!" Nadine responded. "I wonder if either Vernon or Geoffrey is one of those people. Some news guy was out there talking about how there was rumors of the occult practices occurring there, and that might have played a part in what happened. Please tell me you don't still work there."

"Uh, well… I won't be going back there now."

"Oh, Sarah," she groaned into the phone. "One way or another, I'm glad you're out of there. I can't believe you tolerated everything there. I know you always brushed it off, but that place was creepy as hell."

"I didn't work there daily like you did," Sarah explained. "It's easier to ignore things when you don't have to experience them all the time."

Sarah jumped when she heard a loud thud coming from the front doors of her home.

"Hey, is everything okay over there?" Nadine asked with worry in her voice.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, trying to hide her frazzled feelings. "I think someone's at the door. I gotta go." Sarah hung up the phone and warily made her way down the hall. When she arrived at the door, she saw a figure slumped against the door.

Long hair, white shirt and trousers.

"Shit," Sarah hissed as she quickly opened the door. As soon as the door opened, the dead weight of the magical creature fell against her, sending her to the wooden floor. The shock of seeing him at her home was negated by seeing his unresponsive appearance.

"No. Oh, no." She pushed him off of her and onto his back. "Don't be dead."

His slow breathing and the rise and fall of his chest proved to her that he was still alive. She reached up to close the door. Thank goodness for the storm. Her obnoxiously nosy neighbors would have had a field day otherwise.

Sarah knelt down, leaned over him, and gently smacked her hand against his cheeks. "Hey. Hey. Wake up!"

Receiving no other response, Sarah sat back on her heels, trying to figure out what to do. After a moment of contemplation, she hooked her arms under his and attempted to lift him up as she rose to her feet.

"My god, you are heavier than you look," she grunted before clenching her teeth. Sarah took one step and lost her balance, causing them both to fall to the ground. She pushed away his blond hair from her face before sliding from underneath him. "Well, damn." Clearly, Sarah attending that kickboxing class once every three months was not enough to form proper muscle mass in her arms. Rising to her feet again, she contemplated the unconscious being on the floor. She turned around as though she was in her house for the first time. Sarah let out a heavy sigh as she considered her options.

"Sorry about this." She reached down to grab his bare feet and began dragging him across the floor. For the first time since she moved into the home, she was grateful for the elevator. Patrick loved that the home came with such an unusual feature, but Sarah always found it to be useless and obnoxiously extravagant, the type of things Patrick loved.

Who could have guessed that the first time she needed this was to drag a mythical being to a guest room. She soon realized that she still needs that drink.

Dragging the body across the ground may be easier, but it wasn't easy.

"Just a few more feet," she said to herself as she shuffled backwards while her hands locked around his ankles.

After she pushed the button to call the elevator, Sarah considered where exactly she was going to put him. Should he stay on the same floor as her or should he go elsewhere? The elevator arrived .and she unceremoniously hauled his body inside, trying her best to not knock his head against any walls. She pushed the button for the third floor. No reason for him to be on a separate floor. She already has him in her home. A separate floor wasn't going to make that much of a difference. When the elevator door opened, she let out tired groan as she tried to loosen her shoulders before giving a moment of thanks that the guest bedroom was so close to the lift.

When she caught sight of the bed, she let out a curse.

"Why does the bed have to be so tall?" Sarah then looked down at the comatose creature. "And why can't you be awake? That would help a lot."

Though sheer will and a few accidentally drops of the body, Sarah finally got him on top of the mattress, wet clothes and all. She grabbed his head and carefully adjusted it on the pillows.

She found herself drawn to his face. His long hair blocked most his facial features. Even though she basically dragged him all over her home, she found herself reaching out with trepidation to move his hair to the side to display his face fully. Sarah let out a frustrated yet relieved sigh as she choked back a sob.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, feeling overwhelmed- again. "How did you know to come here?"

His eyes opened sluggishly as they found their way to her face.

"Are you okay?" she earnestly asked, grabbing him by the shoulders, giving him a little shake. "Please don't fall back asleep. You need to stay with me, all right?" His mouth curved into a smile as his eyes started to fluttered close before his head lolled to the side.

"Sarah."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I need to make something clear because I might have inadvertently misled some readers. In the first chapter, before I found the mistake, I described the dinner guests as faes. This was wrong. Old habits die hard I guess. I never meant to give that character trait to anyone. So, if you read the first chapter before I caught that, please disregard that non-fact. Much apologies!


	4. Chapter 4

_Purple haze, all in my brain  
Lately things they don't seem the same_

* * *

Dreams.

To Jareth, his mind seemed to be trapped in an endless cycle of dreams. _Odd_ , his subconscious thought as he walked among the void of his mind. Whenever he was able to dream, he never was able to control them. However, he reminded himself to not complain. He hadn’t slept-hadn’t dreamed- since his imprisonment. 

The dark void slowly gave way to a stone walkway. Jareth looked down at his hands to see white gloves.

 _No. No. No_ , he mentally protested. He hated this dream. In all his years of being, this was the only dream that kept recurring. Jareth tried to back away, tried to escape, as he always did- yet he never could. He cursed under his breath as he saw a teenage Sarah searching around the room. The only way he could end this story was to play his part. Only then would Jareth be free from this delusion.

Jareth stepped out of the shadows to confront Sarah, to be rejected one more time. The way it had to be. The way it always was. As he walked toward her, he saw her determined stare, knowing nothing he could say would change her mind.

“Give me the child,” she softly demanded. Jareth tried to walk away, retreat into the shadows. He didn’t want to do this; he simply wanted to leave- to wake up. However, as though his body was not his own, he couldn’t back away and instead took another step forward and continue this tortuous charade. 

“Sarah, beware. Everything that you wanted I have done,” he vehemently stated. Jareth began circling around her; the pain and frustration he felt was just as acute as the day he first did this. “You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me; I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for _you_! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn’t that generous?” Nothing had changed. This dream was always the same; _she_ always had that same resolute look on her face. Sarah always ignored his plea.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered,” she recited as she moved toward him, causing him to retreat. “I have fought my way here to the Castle beyond the Goblin City for my will is as strong as yours and my-”

“Stop. Wait!” he demanded. Jareth nearly laughed at himself. At the time, he truly thought this tactic would work. Now, all he could think of while speaking was that this agony was almost over.

“I ask for so little. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I shall be your slave,” he beseeched her. Suddenly, Jareth felt that something was wrong. Something was different with him. He felt something wet slowly roll down his cheek.

 _Crying_ , he thought with incredulity. _I have never_. It wasn’t so much pride as he was sure he was purely incapable of such an act. Regardless, there was no reason to harp on such things. The end to his nightmare was approaching.

Holding out the offered crystal a little further, Jareth awaited the rejection that always came. Inwardly, he sighed and briefly closed his eyes as the lonely tear dropped to the floor. When he opened his eyes, he was shocked to see, not the Sarah of years past, but the one he saw when he was trapped, the one who rescued him. Jareth stared at her in stunned silence as she sauntered towards him, her eyes curiously searching his. He attempted to move but found himself frozen in place. Standing right in front of him, she reached up to caress his cheek as she gazed into eyes. He leaned into her hand, briefly relishing her touch.

“Oh, Jareth,” she said softly, showing him a sad smile. “What are you going to do?”

 His eyes widened before his brows furrowed, considering her words. “About what?” he asked.

* * *

 

Jareth startled awake- yet another experience that was new to him. He sat up in a bed that was not his own but was also not that damned stoned dais. The blankets that were laid across him were dense yet soft; the mattress firm yet plush. Jareth took note of his lack of shirt and quickly pulled down the blankets to discover that his trousers were missing as well. One mischievous brow rose as he briefly considered how he got to this situation. His face soon fell as he questioned whether or not he arrived at his intended destination. On the night he was freed, he wasn’t sure if his magic would take him to where he wanted to go or not. Jareth shook his head, dispelling his mind of such useless worries. He was certainly in no state to fight whoever’s home this was, but from what he could tell, he might not have to. He was well aware how a hostile actor treats him.

Curtains blocked most of the sun that attempted to shine through the windowed double doors; nevertheless, he could still tell it was early daylight. He narrowed his eyes, trying to minimize the harsh effects of the sun. His lack of access to natural light for so long made itself apparent. Across the room from his bed was a cold fireplace with one chair next to it. Two nightstands were situated on either side of the headboard and a second chair was situated next to his side of the bed.  

The sound of a door knob moving caught his attention, causing him to sit up straight, body filed with tension. The door opened to reveal Sarah carrying a tea set on a tray. She stopped before entering the room when she noticed that he was conscious, eyes wide with shock. His shoulder slumped as he felt as though someone took the wind out of him. Jareth gawked at her, not saying a word. _She is still so beautiful_ , he thought. Her long hair was piled on top of her head into a messy bun. The wonders of her wearing tight black trousers were obscured by a large grey sweater. But that didn’t matter; he could gaze at her for days.

“You’re awake,” Sarah said carefully as though she didn’t want to startle him with her words. She shifted the tray in her hands but didn’t move further into the room. “I wondered if- _when_ \- you would wake up.”

“As you-” Jareth said before clearing his throat. His words came out hoarser than he expected. “As you can see, I am awake.”

Sarah’s eyes seemed to grow wider. Evidently, she felt some sort of distress, yet she still stayed, holding the tray firmly in her hands.

“Well. Don’t just stand there,” he said, trying to make her realize that he wasn’t a threat. “It would be a shame to spill tea in such a nice room.”  Sarah regarded the tray in her hands as though for the first time.

“Yes. Right,” she mumbled as she walked over to the closest nightstand to place the tray on the table. Jareth noticed the set only had one cup and saucer to go with the tea pot.

“Am I to drink alone?” he asked. At Sarah’s confused face, he pointed to the one cup.

“Oh,” Sarah said as she turned to leave to grab another cup. “Honestly, I expected you to be asleep. It was becoming a habit.”

“Then why did you decide to bring this?” Jareth asked before she left the room.

“I’ve been bringing you tea every day since you’ve been here,” she answered. “If you woke up, you’d have tea. If not, I would simply drink it.”

Sarah left the room and rushed to the kitchen, the surprise of the finding him awake fueling her adrenaline. She tried not to think too much about what was occurring as she rummaged through the cupboard. Nothing but confusion would come from trying to predict the actions of a mysterious being.  She snatched a cup and saucer before returning to where her guest was staying.

When she opened the door, she found him in the same spot she left him- although she wasn’t sure if she should have expected anything different.

“I brought a cup,” she said, not knowing what else to say. Sarah took one step further into the room but didn’t move further.

“Are we doing this again?” Jareth asked, tilting his head to the side.

“No… sorry,” Sarah said as she quickly rubber her forehead.

With a nervous hand, she placed the cup and saucer with the set on the night stand. Sarah then turned to grab a wing backed chair and moved it to the bed side. She sat with her legs crossed in the chair, an action belying her age.

“Hello,” Jareth softly said, sensing her anxiety.

“Hi,” she responded as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So tea- that’s why I came in here.” Sarah reached over to pour them both some tea.

“You seem quite calm,” he noted.

“Honestly, I don’t know how to feel,” Sarah muttered, holding the tea cup and saucer in her hand. “Do you take sugar?”

“No,” Jareth answered simply as he took the offered drink. The fact that Sarah was not making eye contact with him, preferring to stare at the floor, was not lost on him. “I have no intentions of bringing you harm.” He moved to sit up straighter, forcing her to look at him. “I’m a guest in your house. I assume this is your home. I do wish you would feel more at ease around me. If it gives you comfort, feel free to ask me anything.”

Sarah’s head snapped up to glare at him. “How do you know my name?” she asked, pointedly.

“That question has a long and complicated answer,” he cautioned before taking a sip of his beverage. “I suggest we put that aside for the time being. May I suggest asking another one?”

“Okay,” Sarah acquiesced hesitantly. “So, what’s your name?”

“My name?” Jareth raise an eyebrow. “My name?”

“You know my name,” she countered. “It’s only fair that I know yours.”

“You’re right; that is _fair_ ,” he smirked. His face fell slightly as he was remembered that she lacked any memory of him, any memory of her run of the Labyrinth. Jareth placed his tea on the tray next to his bed. “A proper introduction for us both.” He held out a hand toward her. Sarah looked down at the outstretched hand. After a moment of consideration, she took it. “My name is Jareth. Son of Janus. Keeper of the Labyrinth.”

Sarah snorted. “Anything else?”

“Yes, but I do not wish to bore you. Yours? Your full name.”

“Sarah,” she stated, giving his hand a small shake. “Sarah Monroe.”

Jareth pulled his hand away from her. “Monroe,” he repeated as though the word itself left a horrible taste in his mouth. He felt his heart sank. _She actually married him,_ he sneered internally. _That tepid excuse for a human never deserves her._ “ _Monroe_.”

“I take it that you don’t think it rolls off the tongue. Yeah, it’s a long story. I’m in the process of getting it changed,” she groused, rubbing her arms in a poor attempt to calm her anxiety. Jareth’s eyebrows rose in interest when she said the word changed. “So, how did you get here? From the Society, I mean. How did you find me?”

“Magic,” he simply replied.

“That’s it?” Sarah responded.

“After seeing what you witnessed that night, did you expect more?” Jareth chuckled. However, he noticed she wasn’t laughing. “I didn’t…” He looked down at his naked hands. “And I still don’t have much magic. Honestly, I had no real promise that I would arrive at your home.”

“And what if you didn’t find me?”

“I was trapped for years in a bloody cellar,” he grumbled. “I was willing to take my chances.”

Confusion marred Sarah’s face. “Just to find me?”

Jareth said nothing as he reached for his drink. A gentle nod of his head was his only response.

“But-but I’m one of the people who helped with your entrapment,” she admitted.

“Yes. About that…”

The ringing of the doorbell echoed throughout the house, catching them both off guard.

“Um, someone’s at the door,” she stated as she rose to her feet.

“I’m aware of how that works,” he teased. Sarah walked toward the door and exited the room without a word. She then reopened the door to stick her head into the room, her eyes not quiet making contact with his.

“Um- I’ll be right back,” she reassured him before closing the door again. Thankfully, Sarah left the door opened, allowing him the opportunity to possibly hear what was occurring. He heard her rush down some stairs before hearing the front door open. He struggled to decipher her conversation, cursing his current state. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t have trouble hearing Sarah’s conversation years ago. But now- there was nothing to do but wait for her return.

“Ah, so I’m in the air,” he mused as he struggled to get out of the bed as his eyes briefly focused on the shadows from the crowns of several trees. When he finally stood on both feet, Jareth felt his knees become unstable. Leaning against the bed, he saved himself from an embarrassing fall. He knew he was alone yet falling on the ground would still be a humiliation for him, and Jareth had suffered enough of those moments to last a few lifetimes. Clutching the edges of the bed, he laboriously made his way over to the glass doors. He teetered over to the doors, grasping the knobs once he reached his destination. Using his hand to push the curtain away, he noticed the tall buildings in the not-so-far distance. Jareth released a sigh as he gazed upon the skyline. It has been a long time since he’s seen any clear sky, even if it was cluttered with modern human structures. Feeling the little strength he had in his legs start to flee, he shuffled back to his temporary bed, nearly falling on the mattress.

“How undignified,” he complained as he made his way under the blanket.

A gentle knock on the door caught his attention as he fought to sit up properly against the headboard. However, no one entered.

“Are you going to come in?” Jareth asked.

“Are you going to tell me it is okay to enter?” Sarah asked from the other side of the door.

“Is this not your home?” he countered. There was a brief pause before the door slowly opened. She took a step inside the room, holding a wicker basket.

“That was a weird game we just played,” she said, giving him a tentative smiled. “It is my home, but you’re entitled to your privacy.” She placed the basket on the chair that she was previously sitting in. “I washed your clothes. They were covered in dirt and soaked from the rain when you got here. And if you want me to change the sheets, I can. I’m guessing you don’t know how to do that.”

“You are quite correct,” he said as his mouth turned into a small, contemplative frown. “How long have I been here?”

“Three weeks,” Sarah answered. “Almost four. You’ve just been lying there, sleeping I guess, since you showed up. I didn’t know what to do except to just let you sleep.”

“Damn,” Jareth hissed as he rubbed his brow.

“Look, this is a lot for you and for me- although for very different reasons,” she said, releasing a heavy sigh. She had been doing her best to keep her emotions under control for weeks now, preparing for this moment when she would have to talk to this other being. Sarah thought she would do well, but she felt herself failing. “But mostly me since I had no idea that you really existed until now.”

Jareth dropped his hand as he turned his head slowly to give her an oddly blank stare.

“So, let’s make an agreement, yeah?” she offered. Biting her lower lip, she crossed her arms across her chest. “I’ll do my best not to freak out and have some sort of break down, and you’ll do your best to answer my questions and not kill me.” He raised his head, giving her a puzzled look. Despite any confusing, he gave her a quick nod.

“It seems we have a deal,” he said.

Sarah quickly turned around to move toward the door. Turning to the side to look at the floor, she asked, “Do you… do you eat?”

Jareth grabbing his trousers from the basket next to him “Are you offering me food?”

“Obviously,” she answered. Although he couldn’t see, he was certain that she rolled her eyes at him.  It seemed that time had not changed her much.

“Then, yes.”

“Okay. So… just stay here. I’ll bring some food back,” Sarah said.

“Am I to be restricted to this room all day?” he asked.

“There’s a balcony outside those double doors,” she stated, gesturing toward the doors. “If you get dressed, we can eat out there if you’d like.”

“Fresh air after a long confinement would be in order,” he said with a small nod.

Sarah gave him a smile before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Walking several feet to the kitchen, Sarah leaned over kitchen sink and let out a sharp yet brief sob as her breathing became erratic. She covered her mouth quickly, surprised by her reaction. It was then that she noticed her body shaking. Slumping to the ground, Sarah attempted to steady her breathing.

“Everything is not normal, but it’s going to be okay,” she whispered repeatedly to herself, hoping that if she stated that enough times it would come true. Her life was chaotic enough, the last thing she needed was the addition of some sort of supernatural element. However, on the day he appeared on her doorstep, Sarah promised that she would help the creature she surely helped imprisoned if he ever managed to gain consciousness. Funny enough, she thought, everything seemed to be going much better with a creature she didn’t even knew existed than the humans she’d known for years. Matters weren’t helped by the unannounced visit she recently had to endure.

_Sarah opened the door to see the last person she wished to see on Earth. Well, actually the second to last person._

_“Oh,” Sarah muttered as she leaned against the door frame, slowly feeling her anxiety rising. She started to curse at herself for not checking the peephole. “I’m surprised to see you here, Mrs. Monroe.”_

_“We have discussed this,” the older woman said. She was dressed in a sharp deep blue dress suit. Her dark grey hair cut into a smart bob. Her makeup was noticeable yet conservative. A small square purse hung from her wrist. “Family calls me Frances.”_

_“We’re not-”_

_“We_ are _until those papers are si-”_

_“Which they are not because your son won’t sign them,” Sarah said, her words short and to the point._

_Frances sighed as she adjusted her light jacket. “That is why I am here. May I come in?” she asked as she attempted to make her way into the door. However, Sarah still blocked the way, not allowing her mother-in-law entry. Frances was taller than Sarah, always having the ability to look down on her and most people she came across._

_“I can’t do this, Mrs- Frances,” Sarah said, trying to stop her voice from cracking. “Not again. I’m done. I simply want this to be over.”_

_“Judging from the news, you seem to have more time on your hands,” Frances said, clasping her hand together. “Let’s go for a late lunch. Please, let’s talk this through.”_

_“We have discussed this for years. And even though you have decided to conveniently forget all of the extremely important things in my life,” Sarah muttered. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have to deal with them.”_

_“Oh, that tea store?” Frances scoffed as she waved away. “It basically runs itself. Is that not why Patrick bought it for you? As a hobby?”_

_Sarah’s face fell to a grim stare. Trying her best to hold her tongue, she simply said, “Have a great day, Frances.” Shutting the door and turning the lock, she left the older woman outside and made her way upstairs._

Sarah dropped her hands in her lap as she gazed up at her ceiling. Her eyes closed as she attempted to clear her mind of her soon-to-be former in-law.

 _Breathe in; breathe out_ , she thought as she swallowed hard while resting a hand on her forehead. She never thought that those weekly meditation classes would come in handy considering she mocked the idea before joining. “All right,” Sarah said to herself. “I wonder what he eats. Hm… I wonder what he is.” She got to her feet and opened the fridge. “Eggs.” She moved some items out of the way. “And… pancakes. Yeah. That should work.”

* * *

 

After several failed attempts to use magic to put on his clothes, Jareth tried his best to put his trousers on conventionally. He cursed under his breath as he draped his shirt over his shoulders. The moment he woke up he knew his magic was weak. However, not being able to do simple tasks was starting to cause him to be alarmed. Jareth let out a groan of pain as he put one arm and then the next through the long sleeves of his shirt. He shouldn’t be in this much pain. Then again, he considered, he also shouldn’t have been confined to this world.

“Buttoning my shirt by hand,” Jareth sneered. “Like a common mortal.” He left his shirt untucked, not bothering with such comportments. He caught his reflection in an ornate mirror that hung on the wall, noticing his unadorned face. Taking stock of how long his hair had grown, he grasped the end of his tresses that sat at the end of his torso. “It’s been a long time.”

Jareth looked at the door that led to the balcony and then turned to see the door Sarah had exited through. Although being outside sounded like a marvelous idea at the time, his desire to be near Sarah prevailed.

“Oh, hello,” Sarah’s voice rang out as he opened the door and leaned against the side of it. The sleeves of her sweater were rolled up to her elbows as the smell of delicious food filled the air. “Didn’t want to wait for food?”

“I’m not too keen on being alone,” he admitted. Jareth contained his mirthless laugh. He used to love nothing more than to be left alone. His years of seclusion in that cellar, in addition to having Sarah near him, made his desire for isolation nearly nonexistent. 

Sarah’s eyes darted to the floor before returning to him, sadness and regret apparent in her eyes. Jareth inwardly cursed his choice of words. He truly didn’t mean to cause her any pain with his words.

“That’s perfectly understandable. Well, since you are here, you might as well take a seat,” she said, point to a stool at the counter before turning to attend to the stove. “I’m almost done.”  

“Who was that at the door?” he asked as he ambled over to sit in the offered chair.

Sarah turned to the side and scrunched her brows. “Why does that concern you?”

Jareth gave her a lopsided grin. “I guess it doesn’t at all.”

“Trust me, I can say with absolute confidence that you really don’t want to be bothered with the things in my life,” she said, shaking her head.

“Hmm,” he hummed, attempting to give no indication as to whether he agreed with her statement or not.

Sarah moved the eggs and pancakes onto a plate before turning around to present them to Jareth. She took a few steps back to grab the syrup and placed it next to his plate. “I realized earlier that I didn’t ask what you eat,” she shrugged with an apologetic look on her face. She returned to the pans on the stove to finish cooking. “I figured this is simple enough that you would be okay with it.”

“I’m not known for my picky eating,” he mused. A few minutes of silence passed between them, only the sound of Jareth’s cutlery filling the void. “I-I thank you for your generosity. I have no intentions of taking advantage of it.” Sarah turned around to see him looking down at his plate, moving the half-eaten food around. Jareth sighed as he looked up to see Sarah staring at him. “My powers are nearly nonexistent, and I need to find my necklace. I’ll admit that I’m not quite sure where to start, but-”

“I’m going to help you,” she stated.

“You don’t-”

“But I do,” Sarah insisted. Jareth was taken aback, seeing the remorseful yet eager look in her eyes. Such emotion he had never seen from her. Such compassion she had never held for him.

Mistaking his silence for a form of resentment, Sarah attempted to explain herself.

“I don’t know what is going on or why you are so calm about everything that happened to you, but I… caused this. This predicament that you are in now, I helped cause it. So, it’s only fair that I help you.”

“Fair, hm? You seem attached to that word.”

“Is that not the right thing to say?” she asked. Jareth smirked as he returned to his meal.

“What you said was suitable,” he stated, as he concealed his smirk with chewing. “Do you have any sort of idea where we should start?”

“I have books,” Sarah proclaimed as she darted out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs.

“Impetuous as ever,” Jareth mused as his mouth turned up into a full’ smile. A few minutes passed before Sarah’s hurried footsteps signaled her return.  She placed several old, large books on the counter next to him.

“I-um- acquired these books on the night I found you,” Sarah said as she sat on the stool next to him. “Okay. I stole them. Anyway…while you were out, I tried to see if there was something that could help. But I soon realized I didn’t even know what I was looking for, and I was just frustrating myself.” Jareth dropped his fork on the plate before reaching into the pile to pull out one of the thicker tomes.

 He flipped the book open before slowly turning his head to regard Sarah. “Where did you find this?”

“I honestly don’t know where these books came from,” she admitted. “I only sat in an office and was told to translate them. I always assumed they were bought at a fancy auction. I’m guessing it’s important. Everything I worked with was old as hell.”

“I haven’t seen something like this in so long,” he mused. His hands carefully turned a page before moving on to the next.

Sarah moved closer to Jareth, her head next to his. “What is it?”

Jareth jumped as he was startled by her proximity, not realizing that she got so close to him.

“Sorry,” Sarah squeaked, returning back to her stool. He let out chuckle, amused how at ease she was around him once a book was involved. Turning around to show the book to her, he gestured to the tome.

“This was to be destroyed a very long time ago,” Jareth grimaced.

“So, whatever was translated from this book is what entrapped you?” she asked. “How do you know it’s not from the others?”

“Those contain just superstitions and folklores,” he explained, still frowning at the book while flipping through the pages. “Nothing more than fairytales.”

“So… do you think that this particular book has any answers?” Sarah asked.

Without warning, Jareth slammed the book shut. “No.” Jareth answered. “This book was never intended to help me.” His hand stayed on the leather covering before he slowly raised his hand straight up. Although he struggled to keep his hand steadfast, his hand still remained shaky. Sarah stared at the book in amazement as the leather began to decompose from the middle of the covering that Jareth previously touched. As soon as the spot began to spread, she saw him move his hand away as he yelled a frustrated cry.

“Damn!” he exclaimed. Jareth swiftly moved from his chair, walked over to his room, and slammed the door shut.

Stunned, Sarah looked over at the book to see that the cover was back to normal, the magic he performed on it was gone.

“I guess that didn’t go well,” she said to herself. Grabbing the book, she made her way to the shut door.

“Enter,” Sarah heard before she was able to knock. Opening the door, Sarah scanned the room before finding her unusual guest slumped in a chair near the fireplace. “Apologies for my reaction,” Jareth muttered as his hand massaged his forehead.

“That’s all right,” she said before sitting on the bench at the end of the bed, situating herself across from him. Sarah said nothing, allowing the silence to stretch between them as she glanced around the room, her eyes avoiding her houseguest. Jareth rest his chin on his fist as he gazed at the woman who once tormented his dreams, the woman who was now determined to help him. As agitated as he was with where he found himself, Jareth found some solace in the idea that he has been granted a second chance with Sarah- even if she was unaware of their prior engagement.

“How old are you?” he asked. Sarah’s head popped up, giving him an incredulous glare.

“Well, that’s a change of subject,” she joked. “How old are you?” A playful smirk crossed his face.

“I stopped counting a long time ago,” Jareth answered. “But if I knew, I would tell you. Are you not going to answer my question?”

“Why do you need to know?” She had no issue with her age.  However, of all the questions that she expected him to ask her, this was not what she expected.

“Reasons,” he replied.

Sarah’s face turned skeptical as she studied his face.

“Thirty-five,” she slowly stated.

 _Thirteen years_ , Jareth thought. He had hoped that he counted incorrectly during his confinement, that time felt longer than it actually was. He cursed under his breath as he struggled to grasp where he should start in finding out the problems regarding his powers and his necklace.

Sarah fiddled with the hem of sweater. A certain question had been floating through her mind since he woke up. She pushed her curiosity aside in the kitchen, but now she couldn’t ignore it.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?” Jareth asked, raising one brow.

“As though you…” Sarah paused to consider whether she should actually bring this issue up to him. “It’s as though you see something in me, like you know something I don’t.”

Jareth rubbed his forehead, hating these questions. She was never supposed to know about her time in the Underground. However, she was also never supposed to know anything about him, and, yet, here they are.  

“Sarah-”

“Are you able to see the future or something?” she blurted out.

Jareth released an amused chuckle. “No, that’s not _my_ purview.”

“What does that mean?”

Jareth turned his attention away from her to look out the glass double doors. “How much do you know about the lore surrounding those books you translated?”

“Um, not much,” she confessed. “I mostly ignored all of that because I just thought it was fairy tales. I remember reading passages about Leprechauns.” Sarah gasped and her eyes widened with glee. “Are you a Lepr-”

“Don’t you dare finish that insulting sentence,” Jareth ordered. Conveying outright annoyance, he glared at her as his entire body became visibly stiff. Much to his surprise, Sarah let out a large laugh, doubling over in mirth.

“I was about to say,” she said while trying to control her amusement. “You are very tall Leprechaun.”

Jareth’s irritated façade cracked at Sarah’s easy ability to make herself laugh. His shoulders slumped as he reveled in being her presence when she was relaxed and at ease. He used to love seeing her laugh. After all these years, nothing has changed.

“Calm yourself, Sarah,” he groused, hiding his amusement behind his hand. “It’s not that comical.”

“So, are you going to tell me about yourself?” she asked, finally ceasing her laughter.

“It’s difficult to say,” Jareth answered.

“Because you want to keep it a secret?” Sarah wondered. She had fully prepared herself to accept negative reactions to the questions she wanted to ask him. Not telling her anything about himself made sense. Sarah recognized that she had caused him enough suffering without knowing anything about what he was. Keeping her in the dark would be a logical move for him.

“Because humans have tried, and failed, to name what I am,” he confessed.

Confused, Sarah attempted to quickly cycle through the creature names that she came across in her work. “Okay. Well… what do you call yourself?”

“Jareth,” he said with a smile.

“Is that a joke?”

“No,” he simply said.

“But what are you?”

“I am Jareth,” he answered with a smirk.

Sarah raked her fingers through her hair. “Well, nice to know that you can be frustrating.”

Jareth let out a quick laugh. “I’ve been known for much worse.”

Sarah shook her head. “Forget it. Why were you so upset that you left the kitchen? Does that have to do with you powers?”

After standing up from his chair, Jareth walked over to the doors leading to the balcony.

“You said I could sit out there?” he asked tilting his head toward the door.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered, placing the book on the bench so she could stand. She walked past him to fiddle with the lock before opening the doors wide. Taking a few steps outside, Sarah looked over her shoulder. “We can sit out here.” He followed behind, keeping a noticeable distance before she sat down at a wrought iron patio set. The balcony was paved with natural stone and was home to several large potted plants which were located in the corners.

Jareth walked over to the edge, resting his elbow on the stone as he gazed down at the street. Cars whizzed by on the street as humans and dogs strolled by on the sidewalk, even though the trees blocked much of the view.

“How much do you know of magic?” he asked turning around to face her as he leaned back against the balcony. His strength was returning, but did not feel capable yet to stand unassisted for long.

The answer to his question could potentially provide him with many answers. In all his years, Jareth never knew what happened to the people who ran the Labyrinth after they were sent home. Of course, their memories were wiped. But humans had an odd way of circumventing circumstances that they were not meant to.

“I know that _you know_ about magic,” she answered.

“Yet over the years,” he prompted. “Even when dealing with these books, you never felt magic, never dreamed of other worldly things.”

Sarah cocked her head to the side as her face displayed confusion.

“That’s an odd question,” she replied.

Shifting his weight, Jareth was confused by her confusion. “Which part? The books-”

“No,” she said with a tone of disbelief. Sarah turned in her chair to face him fully. “Dreams. Why did you mention those?”

His body became rigid and breathing became labored, yet he struggled to keep his worry from showing as she caused him more alarm.

“Why would I not?” he asked.

“Jareth.” She spoke as though she were speaking to a naïve child. “No one dreams anymore.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new story.
> 
> So, I feel the need to preface this story by saying this:
> 
> I came up with the premise of this story a year and half ago, tinkering with it to see how far I could take story theory. Jump to several months later when I decided to read the first trade paperback of the Sandman graphic novel. I don't want to say much. Only if you have read it and find some similarities, that was a complete coincidence. It was a shock to me as well. Anyway... Onward with the story!


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